A New Queen Rises
by Nobody Marks You
Summary: Ravenna's death is only the beginning of restoring Tabor to its former glory. Queen Snow White has many challenges ahead as she restores vitality to the land and fends off realms looking to crush Tabor at its most vulnerable. Her love for the Huntsman and William is her greatest source of strength, but it could also prove to be the biggest risk to her kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

Ravenna had been defeated, destroyed by the hand of the fairest. A great pyre was built on the beach beyond the castle. For a day and a night her body burned until it turned to ashes scattered by the wind and blown out over the water. Four bearers loaded her mirror onto a ship and far at sea, they filled it with rocks and let it sink to depths unfathomable. Her reign of terror had come to an end and a new queen, the rightful queen, restored to the throne. Snow White, fairest of the fairest, daughter of King Magnus and Queen Eleanor, accepted the weight of the crown and a new dawn began for Tabor.

* * *

Torches lit the room she had had made up as her study. She could not bring herself to enter the one her father had once used and she had played in as a child. It was in the wing with his chambers, and she had not entered the wing since the night she found him murdered. Instead, she occupied the room her mother had used to write letters and manage the castle. Ravenna had not touched this room, and Snow White had found several letters that her mother had never finished in the desk's drawer.

A knock sounded at the door, and she set down the old census reports she was studying.

"Enter," she called.

One of her guards, Vincent, opened the door. He bowed. "The Huntsman, Your Majesty."

"Show him in, please."

The Huntsman stepped into the room, and Vincent closed the door behind him. Except for his clean face and fully pulled back hair, he looked exactly as he had in the forest. He wore his leather greatcoat with his axe strapped to his back. She was sure he had at least ten knives hidden on his person.

"Has our hospitality not pleased you?" Her tone was teasing but it did not reach her eyes.

"I've done my service." His face was unreadable.

"Of course, but I thought you would make this your home now. Unless you have somewhere else to go."

"I don't need much space. All I own is on my back."

Snow White went to the dark window, which overlooked the sea. Everything beyond was blackness and she could only see her reflection and his behind her. "I had thought you would at least stay longer."

"For what purpose?"

She turned to look at him. His piercing blue gaze revealed nothing, and Snow White swallowed. Would she ever be more than a burden he had stumbled across in the forest?

Her mind rebelled at that thought. A memory hovered just beyond her grasp and struggled to break free like a word at the tip of her tongue. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, tried to bring it forward. But the effort only started to bring on a headache.

"Your Majesty? Are you ill?"

She opened her eyes, and he was standing over her. Snow White shook her head and stepped back. "It's the light. That's all." He was so close that she could smell his freshly oiled leather and the scent of earth that clung to him.

The Huntsman gripped her shoulder, and she froze as her heart fluttered in her chest. "You haven't slept in days."

"No one has," she reminded him. Since her coronation, they had all been working endlessly to save the people from further starvation. Besides, her sleep was plagued by nightmares of dark creatures, Ravenna, and William, waxy and cold in death as he lay atop a pile of mutilated bodies. Her hand wrapped around the Huntsman's and squeezed.

He haunted her dreams too. Each time, she discovered him gone from the castle. Riding out in search of him, she found him in the forest, encased in glass box. His face was contorted as he struggled for air while she did everything to break the glass, using branches and rocks to batter it. Nothing worked, and she watched as his face turned white then blue as she threw herself against the walls, pounding it with her fists and screaming his name. Even after he slumped to the ground, unconscious, the glass would not give, and she sobbed as Ravenna's laughter filled her ears.

She shivered.

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" he pressed, peering closely at her.

"I'm fine," she insisted, shaking off the chill and his hand. She folded her arms over her chest. "This isn't why I called you here."

"You want to stop me from leaving."

"I won't prevent you from doing anything, Huntsman." He crossed his arms too and stared at her expectantly. Snow White's hands tightened over her upper arms. She was unsure of herself. "I was hoping you would stay, though. A few weeks ago, I was an escaped captive, running for my life. And, now, suddenly, I'm queen of a kingdom. Most of my father's court was murdered the night Ravenna took over, and I barely know those who remain. Even Duke Hammond is vaguely a stranger. Huntsman, you spared my life until you could trust the truth of my plea. You defended me against countless dangers with great risk to your own life. It was the block and thrust that you taught me that spared my heart from Ravenna's grasp. You're the only one I can fully trust. Hope has been restored to our kingdom, that is the message I send to my people and what many choose to believe. But I am no fool. We are weak and so we are vulnerable. Stay here until I have fortified our land. Help me rebuild the kingdom." She wanted to ask him to be there to keep her safe, to watch over her, but this could not be a plea for herself, as much as she wanted to tell him how much she had come to rely on his steadiness, his strength, on him.

"You have received the payment I promised. But if you wish to go," she continued, "I will grant you whatever lands you desire. I will make sure you are housed and given whatever you need to build a home. Only, don't leave without saying goodbye." It was the one concession she allowed herself in her entreaty. She couldn't bare it if he disappeared without a word as he did in her nightmare.

For moments, he said nothing, only stared at her until she let her gaze fall. "I stay on one condition," he said finally. She looked up again. "You appoint me to your personal guard."

Snow White smiled as relief washed over her. "I think that can be arranged, if it's what you want."

"Someone has to keep you alive."

"I suppose you've had enough practice." She laughed, feeling lightheaded now that she was confident he wouldn't be leaving her soon. And that's when she realized, "You knew you were staying before I said anything!"

"You make pretty speeches." He was teasing her now. His eyes softened though he did not smile.

"We can't all replace words with grunts and scowls. But I am very happy that you choose to stay."

"You may change your tune."

Snow White raised an eyebrow. He had been her constant companion over the past few weeks. What reason could she have for changing her mind now? Seeing her confusion, he slid one of his hip knives from its sheath.

"No woman should be without tools to defend herself, and you are quite inept, though you did well enough for yourself against the queen," he added, cutting off her protest. "If I'm to keep you alive, I'm going to have to teach you all I know and then some."

"I'm not that hopeless," she grumbled.

The intensity of a solemn oath darkened his face. He swelled beyond his full height until he cast his presence into every cranny of the room and the air around him quivered. "I won't waste my second chance. Your Majesty."

He was gone before she had enough presence of mind to point out that the incident with the apple was not his fault.

True to his word, he was stationed outside her study door when she emerged in the wee hours of the morning. He must have sent the other guard off because they were the only two on her return to her chambers.

"I don't even know your name," she said as he walked at her side.

"I am called Huntsman."

"But you once had a name."

"I have forgotten how to answer to it."

"Or rather, is it that you wish to forget it?" She wondered what made her so sure that was the case, but he nodded.

"I was another man then."

"A better one?"

"A different one."

Silence fell between them during which Snow White tried to recall all that she knew about him. It was next to nothing. Only what he had used to keep her alive. Not once had he mentioned a family or who he had been before their paths crossed. To be fair, she had not said much about herself. But then again, she'd been locked in a tower for most of her life. She had a feeling that he had seen a lot more of the world than she.

"Will I ever learn it?" she asked.

"Perhaps. If I become the man I was."

Snow White was quiet until they reached her chambers. She paused on her way in and turned to him.

"The man you are searching for, I don't think he's gone or if he's even as far as you think." Hesitantly, she placed her hand over his heart. She could feel it beat steadily beneath her palm. He wrapped his fingers around hers, but he did not push her away. "I've seen him, but you have to choose to see him too."

She chastely kissed his hand and freed hers before bidding him goodnight. Too tired to undress, she fell across her bed still clothed. But her last thought, as she crossed her chamber, was the warmth she felt knowing he watched over her as she slept. Tonight, she felt safe again.


	2. Chapter 2

Darkness still draped her chamber when someone shook her awake. She groaned. It felt as if she had only just closed her eyes.

"Wake up." The Huntsman's voice broke through her grogginess, and she flew up. Panic clutched her chest as she braced for news of an attack. He shoved something into her arms. "Hurry up and get dressed."

"Where are we going?" she demanded as she scrambled off the bed and started to undress before her eyes had adjusted to the dark. She could see the outline of his form moving away and then crouching before the mantle. A scraping noise and rustling and the fire soon flared in the grate. She blinked against the sudden light.

"Your training starts today," he told her over his shoulders.

The trail of tiny buttons down her back slowed her progress. For a moment the Huntsman hesitated at the mantle, and then he grunted with impatience. "Turn around."

"You're not supposed to be in here," she protested but did as he said, pulling her hair over shoulder.

He snorted. "As if you have anything I haven't seen before."

Snow White blushed at the implication and was grateful that her hair hid her face. She wondered how many women he had seen without their clothes on and under what circumstances. However, she hastily chided herself. He was not the type of man to go about peeping at women.

His fingers were deft but gentle as they moved down her back unfastening her dress. "Impractical," he muttered as she shivered against the cold air on her exposed skin.

He did not linger when he was finished but strode to the door with one last warning to hurry up.

Quickly Snow White shimmied out of her gown and pulled on the shirt and breeches he had handed her. Where he had managed to find ones to fit her, she had no idea. As far as she was aware, she only had gowns to wear. In her dressing chamber, she pulled on a pair of riding boots that she had found among her mother's old clothing and braided her hair from her face.

Two guardsmen stood alongside the Huntsman when she emerged. They inclined their heads and murmured respectfully at her appearance. Although she did not dispute their necessity, especially given the presence of Ravenna's army in the castle's dungeons, they made her uncomfortable. Only a few weeks ago, similarly clad men had stood outside her cell. And for years they had watched her every move to ensure she could never escape.

She forced herself not to shrink from them as she walked past. The Huntsman handed her a slice of bread as they set off through the sleeping castle. "They won't follow," he promised when she glanced over her shoulder. She glanced up at him, surprised. Was her discomfort so clear?

He led her through various corridors and down numerous stairs. She realized that they were heading down toward the kitchens when they passed through a hall filled with tapestries depicting scenes of verdant hills filled with sheep and farmers at the plough. They descended the wide set of stairs to the basement. A whiff of baking bread had just reached her when he turned away, leading her down a corridor she could not remember. Another flight of stone stairs and then he held the door open to an empty storeroom.

Double layers of woven reed mats covered the floor so that it flexed beneath her feet as she followed him in. Burlap sacks of varying heights and widths lay lined against the far wall. Along one of the shorter walls stood five wooden posts hewn in the shape of a human head, neck, and torso.

"Your guard trains outside," he told her as he unslung his axe and set it in a corner. "For the moment, this is safer since the walls are under-manned."

"And no one will know what I'm up to," she added shrewdly. Their secrecy would give her the advantage of surprise in an attack.

The ends of the Huntsman's lips lifted in a rare smile. "Exactly."

Snow White rubbed her hands together to warm them. Away from the kitchens, the air was cold.

The Huntsman strode back to her. Pausing just beyond her reach, he began to circle her. Heat crept into her cheeks under his close scrutiny. Isolation and daily fear for her life during her imprisonment had diminished her concern for her appearance.

But now, she wondered what he saw as he paced around her. No doubt a scrawny excuse for a woman. Greta and the rest of her serving maids either teased or complained about her boyish figure and pale complexion. Tall and broad-shouldered and chested, he towered over her—her head barely crested his shoulder.

He stopped in front of her, rubbing his beard. "We'll start with the basics. What to do if someone gets too close. Today you'll do a couple of punches, a few kicks. Just to warm you up. Form is everything. Get it wrong, and you'll end up doing the work for whoever you're fighting. Now watch." Holding up his hand, he showed her how to form a fist so that she wouldn't break her fingers.

When he was satisfied that she had it right, he helped her position her feet and shift her weight. Crouching before her, he adjusted her stance, occasionally giving her a slight push to get her to find her centering for herself.

She was trying to focus on his instructions, but her body had different ideas. Each place he touched her tingled and her awareness of feel of his grip, the prodding touch of his fingertips, and his proximity dimmed her hearing and clouded her brain.

A mild shove knocked her off balance, and she realized that she had not heard the last few things he'd said to her.

"If you don't brace yourself, your opponent will knock you over on the first hit. And keep your stomach tight. In case your block is too slow."

Snow White nodded, trying to focus on what he was saying, and tightened the muscles in her middle. She needed to get a hold of herself. Ever since he had found her standing over Ravenna's shell and grabbed her up into an embrace that squeezed the breath from her lungs, even in her armor, she found herself far too aware of him.

"Watch me." The Huntsman straightened and demonstrated the punch—once, twice, three times. "Now you."

The queen followed. She thought she did it correctly, but he made several adjustments to her feet and arms before he allowed her to try again.

She wasn't sure how long they worked in the basement room, but by the time the Huntsman called an end to their lesson, her hair was matted with sweat and her arms felt as if their bones had melted. She tried to sink to the floor, but the Huntsman caught her arm.

"Trust me, it will hurt worse if you sit down."

Not long after, she would have argued that nothing could make her hurt worse than she did at the moment. Everything felt stiff and the muscles in her thighs twitched at every step.

"You've won. I am regretting your appointment." She bit her lip to hold back a groan.

The Huntsman chuckled and took her elbow to help her along. "Hopefully you'll be able to thank me one day when this saves your life. It will get easier. Perhaps not tomorrow or the day after, but your body will adjust. Just give it time."

"Hardly helpful," she grumbled.

To his credit, he did not complain of their slow progress up the flight of steps leading to her castle wing. They paused on the landing so that she could rest. Through the bay window, she could see dawn spreading along the horizon. She had hardly slept the night before then. A sigh rose and fell silently from her lips. All she wanted to do was sink into her inviting bed and sleep as long as she wished.

They watched as coral petals of light unfurled around the sun, arching slowly across the sky and prodding away the night's shadow. Gradually its beauty eased the aching in her body and lifted some of the weariness from her shoulders. Peace had rarely been a companion in her life but now it draped itself around her. Nothing existed beyond the safe square of the landing.

Her voice was soft when she spoke. "I don't remember a sunrise as vivid as this when I was in the tower."

"There was little to give it life under Ravenna's reign. But the trees are budding now and the fields grow golden and the hills green. It has reason to shine again."

She turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised in surprise. Such an interesting notion that the sun shone for the life beneath it instead of for its own stake. Snow White would never have suspected the Huntsman of such philosophical musings. He was always so pragmatic when he spoke. She had wondered before and now wondered again what thoughts flowed behind his taciturn exterior.

Sadness lingered in the lines on either side of his nose and the creases in his brow. There was pain too, in the hardness his gaze and the rigidity of his cheeks. And vulnerability, faint, but present, tucked into the corners of his mouth.

Snow White returned her gaze to the lattice windows and the spreading sunrise. What horrors and beauty had this one man seen?

Rapidly approaching footsteps broke the pensive moment. The Huntsman had already turned his attention toward the stop of the stairs and shifted slightly so that he stood between her and whoever was running toward them.

She didn't sense any danger, but the Huntsman would not let her outside of the radius of his arm.

William jerked to a halt above them and stopped so suddenly that his grab for the banister was the only thing that kept him from tumbling to their feet. "Snow!"

The queen pushed past the Huntsman. "What's happened?" she cried. A hundred scenarios flashed before her. The escape of Ravenna's remaining army, an army charging toward their borders, fire. A fire that broke out shortly after her sixth birthday had destroyed nearly twenty villages and a year's worth of grain.

She was taken aback when his startled expression ignited into anger. "Where have you been?" He directed the question at her but his eyes were on the Huntsman. "Why is she hurt?"

"There is nothing wrong with me," she protested.

William brushed past her. He did not want to hear anything she had to say. Behind her, the Huntsman returned her friend's glare. "She appointed me to her guard. I was performing my duties, my lord."

That was enough for the young lord to pause. Snow White laid a hand on his shoulder. "He kept me alive in the forest. I trust him to do so now."

"You were paying him," William snapped as if she were stupid for missing what was clear.

Anger of her own flared at the way he was treating her and the Huntsman. "He has my trust, and I stand by my decision, William. He's saved your life too."

His lips tightened before he turned away to face her guardsman. "You are no fool, Huntsman. Think what rumors will spread when you are caught disappearing, just the two of you. There are different rules now that she is queen. Her safety is not their only priority." William descended a few more steps toward the huntsman. His movements were no longer hostile and the other man eased his own posture. "Things were different in the forest. No one was watching her. Or us."

Snow White scowled. What did he mean that no one was watching her? Hadn't Ravenna's men been tracking her every movement? Twice she had only just escaped Finn. And why was the Huntsman caving to William's demands? She could see the surrender in his face.

She had had one night, and a short one at that, of restful sleep, knowing that he kept watch over her again. And her supposed friend was snatching that away.

"It is the queen's decision," replied the Huntsman after a long silence during which she sensed a tacit exchange between the two of them.

"Clearly no one's explained the consequences to her." Both of them glanced up at her. William's blush was bewildering. "Her mother died when she was eight and her father the year after."

The Huntsman frowned though she caught a hint of amusement in the creases at the corner of his eyes. "I'll take care of it."

Though William grabbed his arm, there was an odd look of relief on his features. "You can't just—."

"Why not?"

"Because," the duke's son's face was deep red, "you're not. She's." He choked on his words and fell silent with a shake of his head.

The other man shook him off. "I'll not do it myself."

William did not seem reassured, but he had won his point and was willing to let the rest lay. He was more composed when he looked back at her. She could see the companion of her childhood in his face. She recognized the haughty lift of his chin, which he had used to remind her that he was older and therefore smarter.

"Where'd you get those clothes? You look like a boy in them," he told her.

It was unfortunate she was too old to swat him for it. Instead she summoned the most disdainful look she could manage. "I have a council meeting to prepare for." She pivoted to stalk off, but her muscles were too sore and her dignity was somewhat ruined by having to use the banister to pull herself up the stairs.

However, they must have thought she was moving faster for she heard what William could not have meant for her ears. "It is not the way you look at her. It's the way she looks at you." The pain in his voice almost made her turn, but she forced herself forward as if she had not heard. The Huntsman rumbled something and followed her.

He was not fully at her side when she asked, "What did he mean about explaining the consequences?"

"Some have it explained to them, as I'm sure he did. Others just figure it out on their own."

"And you figured it out on your own?"

"For the most part."

"And I'll have to have it explained to me?" She couldn't help but sound a little disgruntled.

The Huntsman chuckled. "That's not your fault, Your Majesty. Anyone who'd been locked in a tower as young as you were wouldn't know how ships come into a harbor."

"A ship hasn't landed here in years."

Something about what she said made him laugh outright. She felt foolish for her ignorance, but his laughter also sent a thrill of pleasure through her. His laugh was barely more than a chuckle, but it had a warmth and richness that she wished she could wind her arms through and wrap around herself.

* * *

Her serving maids had her bath ready when she returned to her chambers, but she barely had time to sit down in it before they had her scrubbed and out. It seemed as if she would only be receiving glimpses of comfort today.

Few tailors and seamstresses besides those who had outfitted the former queen could afford the cloth, pearls, and jewels they believed necessary for their new monarch. Instead, they sent what they could, and though only their craftsmanship could speak for the garments' quality, she found that she preferred the simplicity of this new attire. She absolutely refused to wear any of Ravenna's outlandish gowns and had only consented to having some of her mother's dresses taken in because there had not been enough time to assemble a wardrobe of her own.

Her outfit for the day was one of the simple affairs sent from a town in the north. Only the neck and sleeves of the cotton cerulean gown were embroidered with silver thread, but the work was exquisite. Tiny swallows peeped from among vines that looked as if they were still growing right out of the fabric. As usual, she wore her midnight hair loose.

The final touch was her silver circlet, a coronation gift from the dwarves.

As soon as she emerged from her chambers, her guards fell in around her. She was relieved to see that the Huntsman remained among them, at least for the time being. Despite the burn in her muscles, she set a quick pace for them. The council had much to accomplish for the day, and she did not want to waste a moment on tardiness.

The sun had just cleared the horizon when she strode into the council room.

Immediately she knew something was amiss. Instead of the buzz of politics she was still getting accustomed to, the room was dead silent.

Duke Hammond stood already, his face white beneath his salt and pepper beard. His hands were clasped firmly at his back.

"Your Majesty, we were about to send someone to summon you." He yanked apart his linked fingers to rest a hand on the shoulder of a boy who occupied his seat. The child before her was so starved that his eyes bulged like orbs in his wasted face. He could not be more than nine, and yet his expression was as haggard as a man who had lived an entire lifetime. "This boy brings news from the North. Altira is gathering troops at the Hecklen Gap."

The Hecklen Gap was one of two mountain passes between Tabor and its northern neighbor, Altira. It was the fastest way between the two countries and connected to one of Tabor's main trade routes, or what was left of it.

"How long before they strike?"

"Any day."


	3. Chapter 3

Her fears had come true. Once the Altiran army breeched the pass, it would be a matter of days before it was at the castle portcullis. Barely a week had passed since her coronation and Tabor could soon be at war.

Snow White's mind raced ahead to the possibilities. Her kingdom crushed, the castle taken so soon after their victory, hundreds of her people slaughtered. Her father would have known how to handle this. No one would have dared attack his kingdom.

Her entrance prompted the other nobles to rise and bow or curtsy in acknowledgement. A faint blush rose to her cheeks. She was not used to being paid such deference.

But their greeting reminded her that this was her kingdom now. Her council was watching her expectantly, waiting for her instruction. Now was not the time to give way to the despair weighing down her stomach. Some, particularly Lady Astrid and Lord Xander, had advocated for appointing a regent until she was considered fit to rule. Already, Lord Xander looked smug as he waited through her prolonged silence.

Not much younger than Duke Hammond, he wore his fading blond hair combed straight back, elongating his narrow face even further. His nose was a line, thin and shapeless. His lips had retreated into his mouth so that they were a mere dash between his sparse, gray moustache and his chin. Only his beady eyes had any prominence.

Hoping that her voice would not betray her when she spoke, she began with the smallest problem first. "Send someone to get the child food. We'll need to hear his story."

The Huntsman dispatched a servant waiting outside the room to do her bidding. Meanwhile, she took her seat at the head of the table. The nobles followed her suit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the significant looks that Duke Hammond was giving her. He wanted her to address the matter at hand. William offered an encouraging smile. Nothing of their earlier quarrel was evident in his demeanor. His confidence was heartening. At least he believed in her.

She had no idea where to begin, but she had to do something. "I would like to hear the boy's story first."

Lord Xander bristled. His shoulders rolled under his tunic so that he reminded her of a wolf settling into a spring. "He's already told us that there's an army gathering at the pass."

"I want to hear his story for myself," she said calmly, as if they were discussing a tapestry in the gallery. The boy colored and dropped his gaze when she turned her attention to him. He had been staring at her. "I know you've told your tale to these men and women, brave one, but would you mind telling it again?"

Enveloped in her gentle smile he could no more resist her than the tide can resist the moon's pull.

Unfortunately, this left him speechless.

"Come on, boy. The Queen has spoken to you," Duke Hammond prompted.

Two seats down from hers, Lady Astrid cleared her throat sharply. Ignoring her, Snow White beckoned to the boy who looked as if he wished he had never come. "Perhaps it will be easier if you tell only me."

Obediently, he rose and came to her side. Up close, he was even thinner than she had first thought. His clothes were too small in proportion to his height, but they still billowed around his slight frame. And she saw that his hair was brown only from dust. Underneath was a ripe yellow the color of the thatched roofs that had once sprawled beyond the castle walls. Careless of his grimy hands, Snow White took his thin, cold one in her own.

"Tell me," she implored, capturing his large brown eyes with her own and keeping the rest of the room at bay through her gaze. "But first, what is your name?"

"Niall is what I am called." His Altiran accent took her by surprise.

"Do you not speak our language, Niall?"

He shook his head. Haltingly, he explained that his parents were servants of her father's Altiran ambassador, Lord Weston. Although they were Taborans, he had been born and raised in the northern kingdom. Shortly after his birth, word of Ravenna's regicide and coup had reached the Alitran court and the king, Ragnar, had ordered the ambassador to return to Tabor to consult with its new monarch. Lord Weston and his household were nearly at the border when one of the king's guardsmen, having managed to escape in the confusion following the king's death, intercepted them. The castle had fallen, all of its inhabitants loyal to the king slaughtered, the princess murdered, he told them. Tabor was lost.

Niall shifted his weight, and Snow White chided herself for making him stand through the account. His face was gray with exhaustion and hunger.

"Take my seat," she said rising. Niall stared at her wide-eyed and then took a step back.

"It is not my place, Majesty," he stammered.

"You must sit," insisted Snow White, levering herself out of her seat. Her muscles seared in protest at her movement, and she gripped the table to steady herself. "Do not argue."

Pale beneath the smudges of dirt across his feet, Niall approached her chair as if it would suddenly uncoil and strike him. Snow White patted his shoulder encouragingly as she moved aside so he could place himself gingerly on the edge of the chair. An image of him losing his balance and tumbling off flashed through her mind, and she suppressed a smile.

"Much better. Now you may continue."

"I lose my place. Majesty."

"Lord Weston just discovered that Tabor had fallen."

He ran his fingers over the chair's polished arms as he continued. "We had no more home, the soldier told us. So we must stay in Altira, Lord Weston decided. He built a farm for us and for everyone. He taked in people hiding from the Queen. Not you, Majesty. The other queen. The bad one. We take in people and ask for news. It was always bad. And then worse. Four years, our crops failed and cattle grow skinnier. There is—was—no food or not enough. Why is the queen still Queen, people were asking. They said we should fight back for the land they lose. But there were not enough men to fight. We must win, Lord Weston says. We are the last hope."

A young woman arrived with the meal the Queen had requested. It was a simple bowl of porridge. From her days in the tower, she knew that Niall's stomach would not be able to handle much more. The servant placed it before him and curtsied before leaving.

Niall snatched up the spoon and scooped a large spoonful toward his mouth. Snow White blocked his wrist.

"Eat slowly," she cautioned. "Your stomach will hurt if you go too quickly."

After he had eaten a third of the porridge, she wanted to know how the ambassador knew of the king's plan and encouraged the boy to go on with his story. Reluctantly, Niall set down his spoon.

"Lord Weston keeps secret-tellers who know about things in the court. They told us about the army. King Ragnar has heard about you and hopes to take the kingdom while you are weak. Lord Weston sends me because I am a child and no one pays attention."

Snow White squeezed his hand. "You've been very brave to come to us. A few more questions. Does he know when the army will strike?"

Niall lost his enthusiasm for the food before him. He pushed it away before he looked up at her mournfully. "When you refuse King Ragnar's offer to marriage. Messengers ride now to you."

"Then she won't refuse!" burst out Lord Xander. The room dissolved in uproar.

Some of the nobles agreed that she ought to pledge her hand to the Altiran king. Most of them—Lords Keegan, Bryan, Kristopher, and Lady Caelen—had northern lands. Others, among them Duke Hammond and General Piers, argued that other kingdoms would rise against hers if they found out that she had showed preference to King Ragnar. Lady Astrid's voice pierced through the others'. She did not trust any man who held a woman's kingdom hostage in exchange for her hand.

Niall shrank against her side as council members jumped to their feet. Her calls for silence went unheeded. Snow White looked to William for help but he was all but deaf to her as he shouted down Lord Xander. Duke Hammond was trying to wrestle his son back into his seat.

A bell, she wished for a bell so that she could ring for their attention. Her voice could not overcome their virulent debates.

Just as she was considering screaming as loud as she could to get their attention, a whistle blast forced quiet over the room and left her ears ringing. All heads turned toward her and, behind her, the Huntsman. He stood less than a step away, his fingers still at his lips in case he had to get their attention again. Open disgust lined his face. "Our Queen wishes a word," was all he said, but the rebuke in his voice was clear.

She stiffly nodded her thanks. She hid her trembling hand in her skirts. Her other arm remained around Niall. Behind her, she could feel the Huntsman's strength flowing into her as it had once before—the night she had rallied Duke Hammond's men and the kingdom's refugees against Ravenna.

She could not help glancing at William who looked properly ashamed and on the verge of offering an apology. She held up a hand. "Our kingdom is on the brink of the war and we bicker like children at play. I will do whatever necessary to keep my kingdom safe, but I will not marry anyone without the proper diplomatic exchanges." What these were, or whether any existed, she had no idea. It was a phrase she had often overheard between her parents and it seemed appropriate to use now. At any rate, the council members appeared to accept it as some of them relaxed and others staid their arguments.

"None of us believes that we could win a war at the moment, if it came to that. Our only other option is to stall as long as possible so that we can gather enough arms and support to have even a chance of winning."

Her words began to shift the atmosphere in the room. Where anger and fear had seized them and set them against one another, her words planted hope, however small.

With its bare, windowless walls and dim sconces, the Council Chamber contributed to despair, she decided. Something would have to be done to remind them of their purpose within it.

Despite the change in direction, no one had anything more to offer. The chamber was silent, and Snow White desperately looked to Duke Hammond to help fill it. This time, he came to her rescue.

He leaned forward and placed his folded hands on the table. "The Queen is right not to immediately engage King Ragnar's force. Yet, we cannot leave the pass unguarded. Our greatest advantage is that his army will be forced along a single path. If we can create a bottleneck, we may have a chance to win. But we do not have resources for a prolonged battle."

Lord Adam, whose lands lay to the south and whose father had been one of the first to die at Ravenna's hands, spoke. "But we do not want to prompt a battle by fortifying our border."

"Doesn't matter. There is no army to send." Lady Caelen was not much older than Snow White, but as a northerner, her words carried weight. "We must figure out how to buy time, as the queen said."

"We could announce her marriage," Duke Hammond suggested. "It would be an occasion to renew alliances to other realms. King Ragnar will not be so hasty to force the Queen's hand if there will be witnesses. Or other suitors."

Snow White's hands spasmed in her lap. In the whirlwind of the battle and coronation, the thought had not crossed her mind. She would have to take a husband to rule at her side.

Lord Xander raised an eyebrow. "Will we be drawing straws for her hand, then? Or do you already have someone in mind?"

The queen could taste her dislike for the man as he goaded one of her father's most trusted advisors and closest friends. The duke's usually benign expression hardened, but he did not rise to Lord Xander's barb. "The King is the Queen's choice. I trust she knows the decision she must make."

Lady Astrid laughed scornfully. "She'd marry that Huntsman if we left it to her." Several of the other nobles snickered.

Snow White's fists balled at her side. "And would that be so bad?" she burst out. How could the Huntsman just stand there, silent, while they spoke of him as if he were not in the room? She would not sit idle while they denigrated the man who had saved her from deaths that still haunted her nightmares.

Lord Keegan shook his head. "He is a drunkard. He has a reputation in numerous towns and owes nearly every tavern in the kingdom, I'd wager. William told me of his journey with you, Your Majesty, and he certainly must receive credit for delivering you to Duke Hammond's keep. But he is not the man you think you know."

Lord Ewan and Lady Sedara seconded his assessment. Lord Xander's eyes glittered as others chimed in. Even Lord Oliver, a rather bookish young man who had been enlisted as her tutor and whom she liked and found to be painstakingly fair, murmured in agreement.

Over the course of her journey with the Huntsman, she had learned bits and pieces about his past. She was well aware of who he had been. But could none of them see that he had changed?

Angry, Snow White threw out her arms. "Is this how you treat the man who fought to restore your queen to her throne? While you cowered in your keeps, he was fighting to keep me alive. He never gave me up for dead or abandoned me in the clutches of a queen who sucked the life from her subjects and the land. Or her brother who ravaged the innocence of girls younger than I. None of you has braved the terrors of the Black Forest or risked your life countless time for mine. How dare you judge him? How dare you?"

She stared down each of them, even Lady Astrid with her gray-piped red hair. The Huntsman crossed his arms, enjoying the display of her anger, though he maintained the disgusted indifference in the twist of his lips.

William met her eyes and then let his gaze skitter away. "A domestic marriage may be out of the question anyway. An alliance between ours and another kingdom could be our only hope."

Niall curled up and fell asleep in her chair long before the Council haggled out a plan. At last they agreed that a second coronation would take place, one for all the kingdoms to attend. Snow White would offer honors to the foreign ambassadors whom Ravenna had murdered. Her hand would also be made available, and many of the council members were certain that this act alone could keep King Ragnar at bay. Every king or prince, they insisted, would fight for the opportunity to win her heart. She did not know what gave them such confidence, but she hoped they were correct. Her kingdom could not hold otherwise.

They also decided to convert Duke Hammond's eastern keep into an army barracks where they would immediately begin training recruits to rebuild the depleted army.

The coronation date was set eight months from the day. In eight months, the town beyond the castle would have to grow into a modest city to match those that had been expanding in the other kingdoms. Even before the eight months, Tabor would have to begin to look like the thriving realm it had been under her parents' rule.

With a course of action in place, the Council adjourned for the night. Tomorrow they would have to figure out how to raise the funds to restore Tabor.

Snow White assigned a guard to Niall before having a servant lead him off to the guest wing where a room had been prepared for him.

Exhausted and sore, she made her way back to her chambers. Through the windows, she could only see blackness. She was grateful they had stopped to watch the sunrise that morning. It was the only natural light she had seen that day.

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**Authors note: **Hi everyone! Thank you for all of your kind and encouraging reviews! They are much appreciated. I apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. A recent hurricane and the election have meant that everything's been out of sync for the past two weeks so I've been busy with work. Hopefully things will calm down as the holidays draw near, and I will have plenty of time to write. Until next time!


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